Manic Depression
by Murderhorse
Summary: "He dreamt of death. He dreamt of falling from the tallest tower in Gotham." In which Tim attempts suicide. Tim/Jason, Oneshot


Tim held his head in his hands and rocked himself back and forth. He felt awful. Anxiety crept up from his lungs into the tip of his windpipe and made it difficult to breathe. It clenched his heart so tightly he was almost sure it'd stop beating.  
>He wanted to die.<br>He though of Bruce and Dick and Jason and Damien and the league and all of his friends. All he had was love for them. They made him so happy his heart felt like it would burst.  
>So why did he want to die so badly?<br>Tim himself had no idea. He dreamt of various ways to die every single night- Driving on the highway and being pinned between the median and a semi-truck, being shot by his father, falling off a 12 story building- It was strange, but he never dreamt of actually doing it himself.  
>But he decided that tonight, that was the way he wanted to go.<br>He left the mansion sometime around five in the evening, leaving his belt, his beeper, and his cellphone behind. He didn't tell a soul where he was going or what he was going to do. He himself wasn't sure he was going to go through with it.  
>he took four buses and ended up in an empty district of Gotham; the only living creatures here were rats. He chose this place because it used to be very bustling 40 or 50 years ago. Now, it had many crumbling tall buildings. Easy to fall off of.<br>Tim walked deeper and deeper into the abandoned area. It was getting harder to see and he cursed himself under his breath for not bringing a flashlight. It was now nine at night- Bruce was definitely looking for him now. Tim hoped he could outsmart the detective long enough to finish this.  
>He found his building- The old Wayne tech building. Nearly a hundred stories tall. What an ironic way to go. He entered the building and began his climb.<p>

8:39pm

Where was Tim? He was nearly forty minutes late. They should've been geared up and ready to go by now. He knew it was their night to patrol. Bruce groaned uncharacteristically before calling Dick on the Batcomputer.  
>Bruce had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach after hanging up. Dick hadn't seen him either, and he was coming over to cover for him. He knew better than to call Jason. It wouldn't end well.<p>

It was now around 9, and everyone had assembled in the Batcave. Bruce typed furiously into his computer, but came up with nothing. Tim had left everything behind, like he meant to go missing.  
>An uneasy air fell down heavily on everyone, while Damien grumbled to himself. No one was listening, though.<br>Suddenly his eyes grew wide and he quickly shut his mouth, but not before letting out the tiniest of gasps. But he was heard, and earned the glance of everyone in the room.  
>Silence fell, causing him to visibly tense and furrow his brows.<p>

"That idiot boy. Leaving behind everything. He didn't want to be found. We won't find him in time." He grumbled under his breath, shifting his eyes to the ground.

Bruce tensed also, his voice low and commanding. "Damien," He said so carefully yet dangerously it made the hair stand on the back of Damien's neck," What do you know?"

Damien felt the all courage and arrogance burst out of his chest and fly like a bat out of the cave. His ears and face grew hot and he bit his lower lip. Suddenly he realized he should've said something so much sooner.  
>Even if he hated that Tim kid. He swallowed hard before opening his mouth.<p>

"He told me that he's been having these... dreams where he just.. and recently I've noticed when he's by himself he doesn't really act like he should and... and he said he wanted to die."

He felt so degraded, and the words that came out of his mouth sounded so much like a child speaking. Another silence fell, as both Alfred and Dick's eyes grew wide.

"What do you mean.. dreams? He wanted to die?" Dick said incredulously.

Damien became impatient. "You heard me. He wanted to die. He dreamt of death. He dreamt of falling from the tallest tower in Gotham."

"Oh my..." Alfred gasped and covered his mouth with a gloved hand.  
>Bruce whirled around and began to type again on his computer, his fingers a blur over the keyboard.<br>"Dick. Take Damien in the Batmobile and head towards LeForge District."  
>"LeForge district? That old abandoned place? There's nothing there but-" The thought hit him like a train off the tracks, and he sped off to the car with Damien in tow.<br>"What are you going to do, Master Bruce?" Alfred said quietly, a bit of nervousness evident in his voice.

"We're calling a friend."

9:22 pm

Tim stood atop of the tower, wind whipping his face. It was an entirely different sensation than when he was out patrolling. He could feel the chill in the air nipping at his cheeks and his arms. It was almost a refreshing feeling.  
>He took this Tim to reflect. He would miss his adoptive family. He'd miss his team. He'd miss Dick's ridiculous bombs that laughed whenever they set off. He'd even miss how awful of a person Jason was to him. They were brothers, regardless of how many times Jason tried to kill him.<br>He knew what Jason was, what he went through, what he became. He respected him on a whole different level than his peers and his mentors. Jason was a special kind of guy. Sure, he went a little crazy and kills people. But there was no way Tim would blame him for that. He understood the pain he went through.  
>Sadness welled up in his chest. He felt a little guilty he'd be leaving everyone behind. Yet to continue living was a near impossible though for Tim. Just breathing hurt. He stepped up on a ledge carved with classic gargoyle decor. He looked down, and realized how far of a fall it was. He'd probably faint before he hit the ground.<br>Reassured, he leaned over the ledge and let the wind push him gently off. That way he felt like it wasn't him killing himself. He closed his eyes for a moment and realized there was no whistling wind or weightlessness. he wasn't falling. Something had caught him.  
>Tim opened his eyes and realized he was standing on two feet, several inches away from the ledge. Disappointment caught in his stomach and he wanted to throw up.<br>"What do you think you're doing?" It was Jason, scowling down at Tim. Tim opening his mouth slightly and refused to make eye contact, earning a hard blow to the head. Jason picked him up by the collar and asked again, his words stressed and forceful.

"Are you deaf? What do you think you're doing, numbnuts?"

"I was killing myself."

The words that came out of his mouth sounded so sad and pitiful Tim immediately hated himself for speaking. Jason put him down, grabbed Tim's face and yanked it towards his into an almost smothering kiss.  
>It took Tim about six seconds to realize Jason's tongue was in his mouth, and his chest burst. Tim was the epitome of confusion, and it definitely showed on his face as Jason withdrew from the embrace, still scowling.<p>

"Uhhh..." Was all Tim could mutter. "W-wha..?"

"Go home. Now." Jason growled, wrapping his fingers around Tim's neck. He nodded slightly, slipped out of Jason's grip, and ran to the door leading to the stairs. It was time to go home.

12:19 am

Bruce met Tim at the door. He was shivering, his cheeks and nose reddened unboubtedly by the wind. He studied his face before letting him in- there was so much raw emotion in those eyes that refused to meet his. Bruce also noticed bruises on the side of Tim's head, on his neck, and his lip, which was also split. He didn't have the energy to be angry.  
>He really didn't want to call Jason, but he didn't have a was so much conflicting feelings between those two- resentment, yet mutual respect, anger, and another emotion he didn't even want to think about. It was nearly unbelievable and unnoticeable to the untrained eye. But Bruce was the master of reading people. He could read between the lines, and he saw it.<br>There was inevitable danger in their relationship. Bruce was so worried if Tim didn't kill himself, then Jason would've done it for him. A weight lifted off his chest when he received the call. He direly needed to speak to Tim, but it was late, and the hours leading up to this moment left both of them exhausted. Bruce wrapped his arm around Tim's shoulder and escorted him to his room without a word.  
>They were going to talk about this, no matter how painful it got.<p> 


End file.
